


Shadows and Sun

by Bellexandra



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:52:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellexandra/pseuds/Bellexandra
Summary: When her brother, the newly-made Inquisitor, asks for her help, Lady Althea Trevelyan jumps at the chance to be busy again, to do something productive, to make a difference. She just lives by one rule: don't let anyone in. But some battles take more than one person to win.Accepting the position of Commander of the Inquisition was Cullen Rutherford's first step towards redeeming himself from both the things he did and the things he let happen under Meredith's Templar command. But on this new path, his battles are just beginning - and the Inquisitor may not be the only Trevelyan who can help him.





	1. Chapter 1

_Thea,_

_I really have no idea how to start this letter. You know I’ve never been very good when it comes to correspondence, but the reason for this letter makes it all the harder to write to you._

_You’ve always been good at finding things out, so I’m sure that my being named Inquisitor isn’t anything new to you by now. But what the gossip won’t tell you is how incredibly hard this is._

_There’s a giant hole in the sky, a crazed half-red-lyrium magister running around wanting to dethrone the gods, and the ongoing mage-templar war. Not to mention the magic, glowing green mark on my hand._

_And everyone is looking to me to fix it all._

_I can’t do this alone, Thea. I need you here. I’m begging you._

_As soon as you get this, please come. We’ve found a base for operations at a forgotten fortress called Skyhold. Wait, I told you about it already. Didn’t I? Did I tell you how Solas (the elven mage; I think I told you about him?) had seen it in his dream-walking (he can explain it better than I can) and remembered where it was: in the middle of the Frostbacks. I’ve attached a map for you. I apologize, my mind is still all over the place. Meeting a magister madman and his dragon and almost dying in an avalanche will do that to you._

_Please, Thea, I’m asking not as the Inquisitor, but as your brother. I truly, desperately hope to see you soon._

_Alerio_

Lady Althea Trevelyan sighed and folded the letter again, reaching down to her saddlebag to put it back. She pulled her cloak tighter around her against the chill of the Frostbacks.

After a week of travel, she was here.

Well, what was left of it.

Alerio had said that Skyhold was a forgotten fortress in the middle of the mountains, but he had neglected to say just how “forgotten” it was.

One tower looked like half the roof had been destroyed, leaving its second floor partially exposed; and from the looks of it, another tower had completely fallen to its foundations. The Inquisition banner flew above the gate, but a gust of wind revealed the gaping hole it covered up. The whole thing looked like it had been abandoned for decades, if not centuries.

Althea clicked her tongue, and her horse trotted forward toward the gate.

_Oh, Rio, what have you gotten yourself into?_

“Who goes there?” called a voice from above, distracting her from her thoughts.

“My name is Lady Althea Trevelyan,” she called back, looking up and using a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. “My b – ah, the Inquisitor – sent for me.”

“Of course!” The voice called to someone else. “Raise the gate, man!”

“Thank you!” Althea called, finally able to make out the figure on the battlements, who gave her a little wave as the gate began to rise.

\----------

_It’s my fault._

Cullen Rutherford stood on the battlements outside the tower he had claimed as his own. Despite not having a proper roof, it was distant and isolated from the rest of the keep.

This way, he could hopefully hide the worst from everyone else while telling them that he could better strategize when he was alone.

He looked across the courtyard at the main building, running a hand through his hair.

He had failed. Completely and utterly failed.

They had been fatally underprepared at Haven – and he couldn’t help feeling responsible.

He had accepted Cassandra’s invitation to be Commander of the Inquisition with the hope that he could redeem himself from everything that happened in Kirkwall.

Instead, he had managed to let everyone down.

Particularly the Herald – no, the Inquisitor now – who had voluntarily stayed behind, faced down an ancient magister and a dragon, survived an avalanche, and managed to walk through thigh-deep snow to find their camp before finally collapsing from exhaustion.

In the short time Cullen had known him now, he was very impressed with Alerio Trevelyan. He had grown up training with local templars, but he had never formally joined the Order, preferring the company of a single swordmaster to that of a dormitory full of teenage templars.

Cullen chuckled. He certainly couldn’t fault the man for that.

A loud, metallic groan came from his left, and Cullen’s attention turned to the gate.

Into the courtyard rode a young woman who, from the looks of it, was very much of noble standing. Her horse was handsome and well-built, and the woman’s ocean-blue cloak cascaded over his back, edged with silver, vine-like embroidery. Her gold hair was plaited into a neat, long braid that fell over her right shoulder. This far away, he couldn’t see her face, but she certainly carried herself like all the other nobility he’d encountered in his life.

What was a noble doing here in the middle of the Frostbacks, anyway? Skyhold was nowhere near ready to receive noble visitors. Maker, Josephine would have a heart attack if the visitor got very far without at least being received properly.

Cullen scanned the courtyard for anyone, _anyone_ who would be fit for the task. . . and sighed.

_Well, if you want something done right. . ._

\----------

Althea glanced around the courtyard, feeling incredibly out of place. There were people milling about, but not a single one approached her. Granted, unlike ordinary nobles, she preferred to do things herself. She certainly never expected to be waited on, but thanks to her status, someone _usually_ offered to help.

Except now, it seemed. In an unfamiliar place with Alerio nowhere in sight, she was all too aware of her loneliness.

In fact, were people – were they actively avoiding her?

An elven woman, a healer, was focused on crushing some herbs. She glanced up at Althea, gave her a once-over, and resumed her work.

A pair of soldiers talked in low voices near the base of a set of stairs, and their eyes were trained on her, guarded and wary.

With half a thought, Althea reached out with her magic, curious to know what they were saying about her.

After a few moments of waiting, she felt the familiar caress a shadow curling itself near her ear.

_They’re just as curious about you. They say you look lost, that you don’t belong here._

Althea sighed. _Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Thank you anyway._

The shadow grazed her shoulder in a comforting gesture before disappearing.

She had studied magic in all its forms, but books only talked about a person’s magic. They neglected to mention that the world itself had magic of its own. All you had to do was listen.

And the shadows heard everything.

Althea swung a leg over her horse, dismounting gracefully to the ground, listening to the soft swish of her cloak sliding down as she did so. “Well, Ember, I guess I’ll just have to talk to you until someone decides to talk to me, won’t I?” she said, moving in front of him to rub his nose. He nuzzled her in response.

A distinctly male _ahem_ sounded from behind her. “Ah, excuse me. . .”

 _Well, at least someone mustered up the courage to talk to me._ Althea turned away from Ember to get a look at the man coming toward her. He was clearly a soldier, dressed in full armor even in the middle of the day. But it was the thick fur mantle and deep red cloak that made him stand out from the earlier soldiers. It made him look rather intimidating – like a lion, she thought. He had sandy blonde hair that looked like it could be wavy or curly, but it was swept back from his face.

A rough-hewn, battle-hardened face that looked as though he had been to the very edge of hell and back.

He spoke again, sounding wary. “Is there something we can do for you, miss?”

Althea took a deep breath, clamping down on her tendency to get defensive. “Well, sir, I was given a map to Skyhold to follow, and I’ve managed to make it to my destination in one piece. This _is_ Skyhold, right?”

“It is, miss. Have you traveled very far?” he asked.

“Ember and I have spent about a week on the road.”

He blinked in surprise. “Traveling. . . by yourself?”

“I’ve traveled long distances by myself before,” she said, a defensive tone creeping into her voice.

“I didn’t mean to suggest that you are incapable of doing so, or of finding your way at all,” he said, his cheeks coloring, “but I couldn’t help but notice that you look –”

“Out of place?” she finished.

“I didn’t –”

“Or like I don’t belong here?” she finished, trying and failing to keep a light tone to her voice. She sighed. “I’m sorry. You’ve done nothing wrong, and here I am letting my mouth run away with me.”

He loosed a breath. “No, I apologize for saying anything that offended you.”

She was about to say something further – but then she noticed his eyes.

They were the rich color of whiskey in a glass. A warm, honeyed amber that made her forget the cold chill of the mountain air.

She had never seen such eyes.

The man seemed to remember himself, clearing his throat again. “I apologize again for unintentionally offending you, miss,” he said, dipping his head in a small bow.

She couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “You said that already.”

“Maker’s breath.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck, and she felt the corners of her lips tug upwards at his awkwardness. There was something. . . endearing about it. “Let me try again. Welcome to Skyhold, miss. How may I help you?”

“Right. Yes.” Althea began to rummage for the letter in her saddlebag. “I received a letter from my brother a couple of weeks ago. He told me he was here and that he wanted me to join him. So,” she said, gesturing to herself and Ember. “here I am. But I’m not sure where _he_ is.”

“Is he a soldier?” the man asked. “If so, I’m sure I know him.”

“Well, actually, he –”

“Thea!”

Althea turned just as Alerio came running down the stairs from the main building, flinging his arms around her. She completely forgot the other man was there as she grinned, hugging her stupid big brother back.

\----------

The Inquisitor.

The lady’s brother was the _Inquisitor._

_Maker above._

Cullen turned to leave, intending to make a hasty exit before he did anything else embarrassing.

“Ah, Commander!”

Cullen turned back, straightening himself at the use of his title. _You’re the bloody Commander of this Inquisition, man. Act like it._ “Yes, Inquisitor?”

“I’d like to introduce my sister,” Alerio said with a little smile. “Lady Althea Trevelyan.”

Cullen gave her a proper bow this time, one befitting her station. “My lady.”

“And this is the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces,” Alerio said to his sister, “Ser Cullen Rutherford.”

At his name, Lady Trevelyan blinked, something flashing across her face.

It was gone as quickly as it had appeared, her face schooled back into cool neutrality. “A pleasure, Commander,” she said simply.

Well, up until now, it _had_ been. . .


	2. Chapter 2

As Alerio whisked her up the outdoor staircase and into the main keep, Althea’s thoughts swirled wildly.

_Cullen Rutherford._

She finally had a face to put with the name she had heard many times in years past, but a name she hadn’t heard since after the Kirkwall Rebellion. When Alerio’s letter had arrived, she had leapt at the chance to leave Kirkwall behind. But now it seemed that wretched city had followed her here.

“Everything okay, Thea?”

Althea pulled herself out of her thoughts and gave her brother a bland smile. “Just fine.”

He stopped her just inside the great hall, quirking an eyebrow at her. “No, it’s not,” he said. “What is it?”

She sighed. Her brother was just as perceptive as she was. “Will I be safe here? Well, will – will someone like _me_ be safe here?” she asked, her voice low. “Mages aren’t exactly welcome everywhere in Thedas right now.”

“Didn’t you ever hear?”

She shook her head. “Hear what?”

“I made the decision to ally the Inquisition with the mages instead of the templars.” Alerio looked surprised. “Did I not tell you?”

Althea was floored. “You. . . you _what_?”

Alerio gave her a little smile, clearly proud. “After that bit of time-traveling I did, King Alistair exiled the mages from Ferelden. I offered them a full alliance if they’d help with the Breach.”

“Hold on.” What in the Maker’s name. . . “ _Time-traveling?_ You never said anything about that.”

Alerio’s eyes darkened. “I left that bit out. It’s not something I like to think about very much,” he admitted. “Long story short, Dorian and I wound up a year into the future – a future where Corypheus won.” He ran a hand through his chestnut-brown hair.

“And Corypheus is that red-lyrium magister darkspawn thing, right?”

He nodded. “In that future, the Breach had swallowed the sky. Demons roamed freely. Red lyrium was being mined from – from _people_. . .” He took a shuddering breath. In their entire lives, Althea had never seen him so shaken. “I saw what happens if we lose, Althea. I can’t let that happen.” He looked back at her. “And I definitely can’t save the world without you.”

Althea pulled her brother in for a tight hug. “Then let’s save the world together.”

* * *

“Maker, there are a lot of doors in this place,” Althea remarked as Alerio led them outside to a garden – one that desperately needed some tending.

“I got so lost when we first got here,” Alerio chuckled. “But during my explorations I found a room filled with all sorts of old scrolls and texts, much smaller than the main library. And it was lit with veilfire.”

“Veilfire?” Althea couldn’t remember a day where she had been more surprised. Veilfire was a special kind of fire that only mages could light, and it didn’t go out unless someone extinguished it. If it was burning when the Inquisition reached Skyhold . . . “How long did Solas say this place has been abandoned?”

“You know, I can’t remember. But old enough to be falling apart.”

“About that. . . you have started sending for people to help rebuild the structures, haven’t you?” Althea asked. “It’d be hard to respect an Inquisition with a crumbling base.”

Alerio waved a hand. “Already started. Didn’t you see the scaffolds in the great hall?”

“Well, I was a bit busy trying not to trip over the piles of stone and wood debris.”

“Ah. Well, that’s understandable then.” He led her back inside to the great hall. “So just to the right of the, ah, the throne there, that’s the door to the undercroft. You need any new weapons or armor, that’s the place to go.”

“Speaking of a place to go, Rio,” Althea began uncertainly, using his childhood nickname, “where am _I_ supposed to go? Is there even a room for me?”

Alerio grinned. “I was hoping you’d ask.” He gestured to the door to the left of the throne. “After you.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, she went ahead and pushed the door open. A path led around the outside of what seemed to be a hollowed-out tower, the best-maintained one she’d seen so far. The path turned into a short staircase, which led to a door.

She turned back to Alerio, who grinned and motioned for her to open it.

So she did.

Althea gasped.

The room was massive, much bigger than any room she ever had before. Though the rest of Skyhold was still under repair, it looked like this particular room had been redone first. A large, plush carpet covered most of the stone floor, and a beautifully-carved desk and chair sat in one corner of the room. Althea turned to see a large four-poster bed against the interior wall, furnished with deep blue and purple covers and pillows. A matching armoire stood not far from the bed.

But best of all were the balconies. Two of them. Half the room was open to the Frostbacks, letting in a wealth of light and fresh air.

She turned to her brother, her eyes burning. He gave her a watery smile in return. “It’s yours,” he said.

Althea went back to him, giving him yet another fierce hug. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shoulder.

“You, your magic, your shadows. . . they don’t belong in cage, Thea,” Alerio said, pulling back to look at her face. “You don’t have to hide from anyone anymore.”

Althea gave him a tight smile. _I don’t know about that._ “Back then, I certainly never would have imagined this for myself,” she admitted.

“Well, no one really let you.”

 _No, they didn’t._ But she didn’t want to talk about this. Not now. “So,” she said, changing the subject, “who do I have yet to meet?”

Alerio tapped his chin. “Let’s see, there’s the Antivan ambassador, the former Right and Left Hands to Divine Justinia, a dream-walking elven mage, a Tevinter mage, a Qunari warrior, a Grey Warden, and a smart-ass dwarf. Where would you like to start?”

Althea laughed. “You certainly keep interesting company now, brother.”

“You know me,” Alerio winked. “I’ve always hated being predictable.”

\----------

_Thwack. Thwack. Thwack._

The sun was low on the horizon. Cullen swung his sword at the training dummy, each blow precise and lethal.

“Aren’t you done for the day, Curly?”

He smoothed a hand over his hair and sighed at Varric’s chosen nickname for him. He didn’t really want to talk to anyone right now, particularly the overly-nosy dwarf.

_Thwack._

Cullen stood taller again, stepping out of his fighting posture and turning to face Varric. The dwarf plopped down on a tree stump, watching him intently. “You know as well as I do that there is a lot of work ahead of us.” He wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow before sheathing his practice sword.

Varric grinned. “Yeah, and ‘us’ just got one Trevelyan bigger!” He glanced at the decimated wooden figure Cullen had been swinging at. “And one training dummy smaller, I guess.”

News certainly traveled fast around Skyhold. “Have you met her yet?”

“Officially, no,” Varric replied, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “In fact, I don’t think the Inquisitor has ever mentioned her.”

“Are you admitting that you don’t actually know everything about everyone?” Cullen asked, relieved that Varric hadn’t asked if _he_ had met her.

Varric clutched his heart dramatically. “ _Maker,_ I’d never admit to that. And may I also point out that it’s impossible to know everything about someone you didn’t even know existed?” He swung himself down from his perch. “But if the Inquisitor’s been keeping her a secret, he’s gotta have a reason, right?”

That sounded reasonable enough. “Of course.”

Varric turned in the direction of the tavern – well, the building that currently served alcohol; it certainly wasn’t a proper tavern yet. “Well, do you think it’s his reason – or hers?”


	3. Chapter 3

There were way too many doors in this place, Althea decided.

After showing her that all of her things that she had sent ahead of her arrival were accounted for and in good condition, Alerio whisked her back to the great hall, then through another door, through a room that looked like a study, then another door that led to a hall, and finally down that hall through one _more_ door.

And that was how she ended up here in what Alerio referred to as the “war room.”

It was an airy, circular room with three sets of windows, and the only furniture present was a large, round table in the center of the space. On the table was a large map of the Ferelden and Orlais kingdoms, with dozens of map markers scattered over both regions.

Three women stood around the table, their calculating eyes on Althea.

Alerio gestured to the first one, a darker-skinned woman with warm brown eyes. Her purple and gold attire clearly looked as though she came from nobility. “Allow me to introduce Lady Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, who serves as the Inquisition’s ambassador.”

Lady Josephine smiled kindly, warmth in her chocolate-brown eyes. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Trevelyan.”

“This is Cassandra Pentaghast, one of the Seekers of Truth and former Right Hand to the Divine,” Alerio said.

The middle woman nodded her head. She had short black hair and a sword at her hip, and her sharp eyes surveyed Althea as though evaluating a potential threat.

That left the third woman, dressed in a lavender-grey tunic, its matching hood pulled up over her head. She had chin-length red hair and keen, blue-grey eyes that reminded Althea of a hawk. Someone whose bad side she definitely wanted to avoid. “And this is Leliana, the former Left Hand of the Divine.”

The woman extended her hand, and Althea took it. “My position here involves a certain degree of –”

Cassandra cut in, her Nevarran accent prominent when she spoke. “Leliana is our spymaster.”

_Ah. I can totally see that._

“. . . Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra,” Leliana said with amusement. “Was your journey here an easy one, Lady Trevelyan?”

Althea nodded. “It was, thank you.”

“Have you ridden through the mountains before?” Cassandra asked.

 _Nothing like the Frostbacks, but. . ._ “Truthfully, I didn’t know I enjoyed trail riding until the past few days.”

The ambassador – Josephine, that was her name – looked the slightest bit scandalized. “Being nobility, surely your parents saw to it that you were given riding lessons?”

_“Mama, will I ever get to ride? All the other children my age can ride already.”_

_“And you’re not one of those children,” she said, her voice tight and cold. “And it’s ‘Mother,’ Althea. Speak like a proper lady.”_

“Lady Trevelyan?”

The Antivan voice pulled Althea from her thoughts. “Ah, yes. . .” She tried to calm her racing pulse, shoving the memory from her mind. “As a matter of fact, I am self-taught.”

The women looked impressed. Alerio beamed proudly. “That’s my little sister,” he said.

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” Althea said. “And it seems like I’ll have plenty of time to get to know you. But for the moment, and I apologize if I’m being too blunt, but may I ask what it is I’m to be doing? I like to be prepared.”

Leliana gave her a sad smile. “So do we all,” she said. “But sometimes the Maker has other plans for us.” The women all shared a look, and Althea guessed that the disaster at Haven was still a fresh wound; Alerio had told her everything in his first letter after reaching Skyhold.

And it was Alerio spoke up. “Take as much time as you need to settle in and get acclimated to Skyhold and – everyone. But once you feel settled, would you be willing to assist in training the mages? You’d be in charge of a group of thirteen or so.”

“Of course,” Althea replied with a smile. “Keeps me sharp.”

“And I hope you’re not too sick of traveling,” he continued, “because I could really use you on some of the missions outside Skyhold, too.”

Althea raised an eyebrow. “In what capacity?”

“Diplomatically, of course,” Alerio said. “You _are_ nobility, after all. Although it’s certainly handy to have a talented mage along if we encounter any Fade rifts, too.”

“Of course.” Something in the way he said “talented mage” told her she’d have to talk to him later. But for now, she just nodded. “If you’ll all excuse me, it’s been a long ride, and I’d really just like a warm bath.”

Josephine was on it. “I’ll have a servant fetch you –” She stopped when she noticed Leliana chuckling quietly. “Magic. Right.”

\----------

“Have you finished your final report on Haven?”

Cullen looked up from the papers on his desk to see Cassandra entering his tower. “Ah, yes.” He opened a drawer and took out a few pages of parchment. “I apologize for not getting them to you sooner.”

She took the papers from him. “No, I understand. I’d much prefer to keep that day in a drawer, too,” she said. “But we need to keep good records of this Inquisition so that those who come after us do not make the same. . .”

Cullen just nodded as she trailed off. _Mistakes. Like all the ones I’ve made._

She studied him for a moment in that Seeker way of hers. “How are you feeling today, Cullen?”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. “A mild headache today,” he said. “Nothing more.”

She inclined her head. “And the nightmares?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Some nights are better than others.”

“Would you like me to ask any of the healers if they know of ways to alleviate withdrawal pains?”

Cullen shook his head, returning to his paperwork. “No, they have enough to worry about already. I’d rather they stay focused on their duties.”

“Cullen –”

“No, Cassandra.” He winced, hoping his voice hadn’t sounded too harsh.

She sighed. “Very well.” She took a few steps towards the door before turning back to him one more time. “We began this Inquisition to save everyone, Cullen. Not just the people out there in Thedas, but the people here in Skyhold, too. Including you.”

He gave a small shrug. “Some people are beyond saving.”

Cassandra nodded. “I know,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t try.”


End file.
